


pi day come early

by sagemb



Series: college applications: the biggest meme [2]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man: Homecoming (2017)
Genre: Future Fic, Gen, Massachusetts Institute of Technology, college decision day, feat. morgan stark, overachieving kids, the life of high school seniors
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-14
Updated: 2019-03-14
Packaged: 2019-11-18 07:28:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,409
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18116111
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sagemb/pseuds/sagemb
Summary: It’s MIT Early Action Decision Day.





	pi day come early

**Author's Note:**

> In honor of Pi Day, AKA the day that over 90% of MIT applicants’ hopes are dashed, I wrote a fic about Peter and Ned getting in early. This was also very therapeutic for me, someone who’s about to get slapped in the face by multiple decision days—this fic was fueled by hope, not salt.

December 15, 9:28 AM

 

tony: Good luck today. Let me know when you know your status.

tony: I got full faith in you kid

thanks tony

tony: You in school?

yeah

tony: Good. Don’t worry. Focus on class

tony: Easier said than done I know but try and all that

 

December sucks. In December, Peter wakes up every morning feeling like he’s five seconds from tripping and falling into his own grave. He has to catch his train before the sun comes up so he can make it to school on time, which is the easiest way to feel like a subhuman entity—you’d think it’d get easier after four years of doing this, but nope. It sucks.

So he’s falling asleep in AP Lit & Comp as his teacher talks about _yadda yadda Chaucer yadda couplets yadda Horatian satire yadda_ but also, he can’t shake the thrumming undercurrent of anxiety he went to bed last night with and woke up with. He can’t wait to be a second semester senior and just not give a fuck. That’ll be in a couple months.

Today, though, is MIT Early Action Decision Day. He cannot wait for today to be over.

Something sharp pokes him in the back. He knows MJ sits behind him, so he turns around.

“Dude,” she whispers. “Good luck today.”

“Thanks,” he whispers back.

“Also, you look like shit. Stop stressing. You’re going to be fine.”

“Ugh,” he says, and turns back around. Okay, Canterbury Tales. Taking notes. He can do this.

 

* * *

 

At lunch, when Ned spots him, he walks straight into Peter without stopping and groans miserably.

“Schmood,” Peter says. “You wanna come home with me? We can check together.”

“Okay. And then we can mourn. Or celebrate. Probably mourn.”

“No, dude, it’s gonna happen. You’re getting in.”

“Dude, are you kidding me?” Ned straightens up and grips Peter’s shoulders. “You’ve got a Stark internship. You’ve got a 4.5 GPA. You’ve got a rec letter from Tony Stark himself. You’ve done so much volunteer work. Dude. If anyone’s getting in, it’s you.”

“Last I checked, you had straight As,” Peter says. “And a 34 on the ACT. And dude, Hackathon prizes. Dude.”

“Dude,” Ned echoes.

“Oh my god, sit down. You’re both getting in. And even if you don’t, you’re probably going to Princeton or Columbia or something. You’re both fucking fine, you fucking dumbasses. You’re like those kids on Reddit who say, _Oh, RPI is my safety_ and _I have a one billion GPA and a 1600 and I captain both the math team and the soccer team; I really hope that’s good enough_ —like, Jesus Christ, shut up. Overachievers.”

“MJ, you’re also like that. You acted like you wouldn’t get into Harvard. And now look. Class of 2023.”

“Do you understand how much of a bubble we live in?” she demands. “Do you understand that less than half of Americans actually go to college? We take so much shit for granted.”

Peter sits down. Then he hugs her, because he knows that despite having gotten into Harvard two days ago, she’s still stressed as fuck about life in general. “You’re gonna be so fucking good, dude.”

“So are you,” she murmurs back. “Ned, bring it in.”

If anyone looks weirdly at the seniors hugging in a corner of the cafeteria like a bunch of dumbass freshmen, the three of them don’t notice.

 

* * *

 

Peter does not go out as Spider-Man today. He probably should, just to distract himself and relieve some stress, but he’d rather not. He goes home with Ned and they make homemade pizza, leaving flour and sauce all over the counter; they eat on the couch and Peter feels very lucky to have a best friend like Ned. He’s also so nervous that he’s about to barf.

An hour before decisions come out, he gets a call from Tony.

“Pepper says good luck.” There’s the sound of Morgan babbling on the other end. “And Morgan too, I’m sure, only she needs a baby-talk-to-English translator. Huh. I should get on that. She keeps on chattering nonstop; I think she’s gonna say her first word soon.”

“Thanks,” Peter says. “Uh, Ned’s here.”

“Oh, really? Put me on speaker.” Peter does. “Hey, Fred. Listen, I one-hundred percent believe that you’re both going to get into MIT. God’s honest truth. And you’re gonna be the two most insanely badass kids there. Deadass, in the words of your generation. Ned, if there’s anything I’ve learned from Rhodey over the years, it’s that being a superhero’s best friend is tough as shit. You’re basically a superhero in your own right—Guy in the Chair, right? To have been Peter’s handler, basically, alongside all the other shit teenagers have to deal with? MIT doesn’t deserve you. Either of you.”

Ned looks like he might cry. “Uh. Thank you so much, Mr. Stark.”

“Eh, the truth’s the truth.” Tony pauses. “Pete. I’m so proud of you. Good luck to both of you—keep me updated. Also, clear out some closet space, because I’m getting you guys all the MIT apparel you could ever want.”

“Thanks, Tony.”

“Catch you on the flip side, kid.” The call ends.

The clock ticks. Half an hour. Twenty minutes. Ten. Peter clutches Ned in terror.

“Dude, dude, dude, dude,” he says.

“Dude,” says Ned. “Dude.”

May comes home.

“Hi Ned,” she says. “Oh, you two look like you’re being sentenced to jail. You’re going to be fine, both of you. Wherever you end up, it’s gonna be where you’re meant to be.”

She hugs Ned first, then Peter, longer, rubbing his back. “Do you want me to sit with you?” she asks. “Or I can leave, and you can tell me after.”

“Um. You should stay,” Peter says, looking at Ned, who nods. “But maybe… don’t hover? I guess.”

“Okay,” she says. “I’ll be in the kitchen.”

Five minutes. Four. Three. Two. One.

“You ready?” Peter asks Ned. His heart is hammering so wildly that his ribcage hurts.

“Nope.”

“Neither am I. Okay, on the count of three, we hit refresh at the same time. Ready? One, two, three…”

Peter stares at his applicant portal, scanning the words on the page wildly, willing them to make sense.

_Dear Peter,_

_Congratulations! On behalf of Massachusetts Institute of Technology, I am pleased to announce your admission to our Class of 2023!_

“Yo,” says Ned.

“Yo,” says Peter. “Yo, dude.”

They stare at each other.

“I got in,” Ned says hoarsely.

“Dude, same,” says Peter.

“Dude.”

“Dude.”

“Dude, holy shit!”

“MAY!” Peter yells. “WE GOT IN!”

There’s a shriek from the kitchen. She comes running out and hurdles over the couch to crush the two of them in a hug. “Congrats!” she says, voice thick. “Oh, I am so, so, so proud of you.” She kisses Peter on the cheek. “Both of you.”

Peter’s not crying. He isn’t.

“I gotta tell Tony. And MJ,” he says. “And like, the AcaDec team… and I gotta update my Facebook status, holy shit. Holy shit.”

“I’m gonna call my parents,” Ned says. “And Betty, and my grandparents—oh my God.”

“Tony,” Peter wails into his phone. “Tony, I got in. I fucking got in. And Ned. We’re going to MIT. Oh my God.”

“I goddamn told you so,” Tony says, and the line goes dead.

“Hello? Hello? Tony?” Peter stares at his phone. _Call ended._

And then he starts laughing so hard he shakes the couch.

“Peter, oh my God, are you okay,” Ned says, but he’s laughing and crying too.

 _we both got in oh my fucking god_ , he texts MJ. _i’m so fucking happy can you believe it_

 _yes i can_ , she replies instantly. _i’m so happy for you both. can you facetime rn_

 _yes_ , he types, but then there are three sharp knocks at the door. May stands up to get it. As soon as the latch is unlocked, Tony explodes into the room, toddler Morgan on his hip.

“I was parked outside,” he says. “Waiting. Holy motherfucking Christ, someone hold Morgan, I gotta hug the bejesus out of you, kid. Holy fuck.”

“Language,” Peter says weakly.

“I don’t care,” Tony says into Peter’s hair. “The situation necessitates a couple of fucks. I don’t even care if you tell Pepper.”

“Yeah, but—”

“Fuh!” Morgan yells from May’s arms. In Peter’s arms, Tony stills.

“Fug!” she shrieks.

Everyone stares at each other, wide-eyed.

“Fuck,” they say in unison.

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this in about three hours. I truly don't know what it is.
> 
> How about that new Endgame trailer, huh.


End file.
